Comm: Willow and the Lost Temple (Part 6)

Summary: In her adult years, Willow's studying to be an archaeologist, and she's joining her first expedition! She navigates jungles, fords rivers, and meets a furry friend along the way. This is a commissioned piece for Torasque.

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[Story Listing]

[FIRST PART] || [PREVIOUS PART]

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Part 6

"GET BACK HERE!!"

Willow exclaimed, pursuing the aboriginals making off with the camp's rarities and artefacts. She grunted, trying to clear a path for herself, but the thieves knew the land much better than she did. Willow would routinely get her head caught in hanging vines... or if not her, her hair snake brothers would. Her serpentine body was better suited for quick, lunging sprints, not a longer chase, and there wasn't any sign of the great Kiyali River for her to swim along.

Willow grunted as an errant tree branch dug into her uniform, the gnarly point tearing into the cloth. Through her expanded field of vision, Willow got a look at the damage and grimaced. She had just got here and her fancy new digs were getting torn up. And it only took one little gash to expose the threads, and unravel the whole dang thing... Willow swallowed back the swelling anxiety within her and focused on the retreating aboriginals.

Even if their tribal getups served them well as camouflage, it didn't account for a whole lot against Willow. She could pick up on their heat signatures just fine and, focusing on their shapes, began to anticipate the rising and falling terrain. She'd tumble down hilly inclines, catching herself and scraping her claws along hard rock, before slithering and clambering along.

"This is getting annooooyinggggg...!" Willow fumed, making up lost ground as the jungle foliage grew less and less dense. She reared up for a better look as she escaped into a clearing, getting a better look at some half-dozen aboriginals clearing off with sacks in hand. Willow huffed, lowering herself as her lower body seemed to compress, muscles tensing. With one final push, she lunged forward to grasp at one of the sacks...

"...!"

Willow's eyes widened as the ground shifted beneath her. She flailed her arms, trying to catch her balance, panicking as the ground seemed to open up and swallow her whole. She felt herself falling, falling...

THUD! She found solid ground, eventually... towards the bottom of a very deep pit. Must've been at least fifteen feet deep but only six or eight feet wide. Willow stirred, her heavyset tail weighing down on her tummy, pinning her down slightly. She writhed, trying to straighten herself out.

"Mrgh... seriously...?" Willow groaned, rubbing her head. She looked upwards, spotting the light shining down, up through the lip of the hole she had stumbled into. Her hair was a tangled mess too.

"Sorry guys, my bad..." Willow sighed, raising her hands to try and unknot the coils of her hair; some of her brothers hissed in annoyance, but otherwise acquiesced to her touch. As Willow moved to untangle herself, she could hear the cheers of the people above; as she turned her head upwards, she scowled, finding some half a dozen Aboriginals peering into the pit to get a better look at her. And they had the biggest, proudest smiles on their faces, back-slaps all around.

"HEEEY! THIS ISN'T FUNNYYYY!" Willow hollered. "HELP ME UUUUUP!!"

Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the men at the top were hurriedly chatting with each other. They were speaking in a foreign dialect... it actually sounded sort of familiar to Willow. She squinted, trying to listen in...

...Only to have her concentrating jostled by a rustling in her backpack.

"Rowr?" Frisky poked his head out, letting out a big yawn. Willow, seeing through Barry's eyes, froze up.

"Frisky!" Willow exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "Get back inside! These guys HUNT jaguars, y'know!"

Frisky let out an annoyed yelp as Willow's hair snakes were quickly upon him, prodding at the cub with their snooters to push him back inside; Jerry and Terry worked together to button the flap back down.

"Sheesh, were you napping the whole time?" Willow shook her head. "Deep sleeper, sheesh."

Willow thanked her lucky stars that the men above didn't seem to notice her contraband anywhere. "Can't take a jaguar cub anywhere anymore..." She muttered under her breath, and returned to eavesdropping.

"Yechulpa baraquocia!" The loudest of them cheered, gesturing to Willow. "Nachi pla gotina, ah? Aha!~"

Willow felt the dots connecting in her head. The long hours she spent and the late nights spent crunching those linguistic studies courses seemed to be paying off. She brushed up on the vocabulary of the ancient Xpocan language ahead of the expedition, but the language the aboriginals were using definitely wasn't that. It seemed to be a more recent dialect... she thought it was Coci?

It seems that speaking Common was falling on deaf ears... Willow would have to do some interpretation... She tried to mentally translate what they were saying.

«Look at how they spread! Why does the python wear coastal clothes??»

«Think of the garments they could make!»

«But they speak the other tongue! What are they??»

Willow frowned. They were gossiping about her looks again, as if she couldn't understand them. Same song and dance, even in the jungle. Willow would have to please their case in their tongue...

She cupped her hands around her mouth and took a deep breath...

«OY! I am a boat! Please, do not wife, and compete with mist! Clarify discount, if you are!»

...That seemed to catch their attention, as their gossiping trailed off, gawking towards Willow. There was an indistinct murmuring amongst them, eyebrows perked and shrugs among them. Willow puffed her chest out with a confident smirk; they must've been incredibly impressed with her scholarly grasp of their language.

«Aha! You keep hiccup!» Willow patted her chest. «Meet contraction, and rebel solution, as you do!»

The tribesman... didn't offer a response, exchanging more puzzled glances. They quietly shuffled off...

"H-hey! Wait a sec, I... I-I mean, «Deal, number, alcohol!» Willow waved.

...She pouted. They were gone. She tried to reorient herself... dang her stupid massive tail, it was really getting in the way. And she was getting her outfit all mussed up and dirty in the process. She tried to dig her claws into the sides of the pit to pull herself upwards, focusing on the strength in her core to push herself up. She was sure that if she leaned against the side of the pit, she could shimmy her way up, sort of rearing up along the side...

With some slow progress, she was slowly easing her way upwards, and in only a couple minutes. It wouldn't be much longer until she could slither out and...

«Outsider! Be still!»

Willow, winced as the spittle of an angering local hit the backside of her neck. He sounded agitated, and the business end of a spear was pressed against her neck.

"Oh do not start with me." Willow growled; two of her hairsnakes teamed up to coil around the shaft of the spear and, with a sharp tug, wrenched it from his hands. Glancing over her shoulder with an annoyed glare, the snakes tensed, and SNAPPED the spear in two.

The aboriginal gulped, and stagged back to fall in line, retreating out of sight past the sight of the other overlooking aboriginals... only now, they had returned with an even elderly sort at the center of them. His skin was weathered, his tattoos faded with time, and his long gray hair draped underneath a vibrant blue-green feathered headdress. He smacked his lips, grey eyes looking over Willow's form.

Aha! This must be a village elder of sorts! If he had any sway among his people, Willow could make her case directly with him. Willow blinked, clasped her hands together, and bowed respectfully.

«Reverent satchel,» Willow began. «Please be opening your bulletin so that we may frequent your smooth suite-»

"Please, stop." The elder raised his palm. "I speak the tongue of those beyond the jungles."

"...bwuh?" Willow gawked. The elder chuckled.

"It was a noble attempt, one that few other explorers ever attempt but..." The elder clasped his hands together. "I'm afraid you were... how should I say... butchering our traditional tongue."

"...Oh? Oh..." Willow glanced around the quizzical expressions of the aboriginals; her mouth flattened as she bowed her head. "S-sorry about that... thoughtIwasdoingprettygoodthough..."

"Water under the bridge." He turned to the men flanking both of his sides, raising his palm; with a wave, he beckoned for them to leave; they exchanged uneasy glances, and muttered some exchanges, but hurried off without too much cajoling.

"I am Ligongo, the memory keeper of our people. We call ourselves the Carich... or in your tongue, 'the river dwellers'." Ligongo explained with a quiet, gentle tone.

"...I'm, ah, Willow. Of the uhhh... the Connelly, Hutchin... clan." Willow tugged at her collar. "I... I didn't think you'd speak Common."

"Though our tribe is isolated from the affairs of the broader world, it is a rite of passage into adulthood to explore and bring back new knowledge back to our people." Ligongo nodded. "I had attended some of your universities in my younger days..."

Willow gasped. "You're an alumni!? What school? I-I'm a Klein University graduate!" It was hard not to get excited.

"Piccadilly U." He nodded. "But we're getting sidetracked... it seems that you've fallen into one of our traps. As we use that pit for catching capybaras and caymans, I'm afraid you'll need to leave."

"Uh? Well, I didn't mean to get stuck in a hole..." Willow stirred. "H-hey, wait, I'm only here because, well, your people were stealing our artefacts! We need those!"

"Hmm... from where I'm standing, it seemed as though your expedition group was stealing from our people." Ligongo murmured. "Are you a group of explorers?"

"Archeologist!" Willow corrected. "We're investigating the Temple of Emperor Epacatuan, which is why we came out here, but-"

"Ohhh, that temple." He nodded. "Would you like to see it?"

Willow blinked. There was a pause, as she studied his expression.

"...B-beg pardon?" Willow raised her head. "The temple of... you know where it is??"

He nodded in turn. "It's not much of a secret to our people. We've migrated from one stretch of land to another for generations. You'd be surprised what you dig up foraging for fruits."

"That temple's been an academic curiosity for years!" Willow gawked. "My professor called it a myth in my freshman year!"

"Hm, well, that's the thing with those scholarly sorts," Ligongo tilted his head. "They get too wrapped up in their books to ask anyone else for help. Rather dry stuff; I was more into the socials, hoho~"

...Willow didn't take this soft-spoken elder to be a partygoer.

"...Would you... show us where the entrance is?" Willow tilted her head, struggling to contain the excitement in her voice.

"Well, I don't know about that..." He swayed back and forth. "Those gunshots we heard were terribly frightening. I thought expedition teams couldn't bring firearms with them."

"Well, there's still wild animals..." Willow stirred. "And you guys went after all the artefacts we undercovered, so..."

"Our people care little for material wealth, but some of those artefacts represent a generational ancestry for us." Ligonga clarified. "By securing the goods, we hoped to talk to your leader, and coerce them to abandon their disruptive excavation..."

Willow frowned. This was a pretty bold move to pull, from her perspective. It'd only be a matter of time until some dozen men showed up toting rifles, and then the situation would be really hot.

"Um, listen, maybe we can work something out?" Willow raised her hand. "If you got to keep all the treasures, and just let us take notes... if you let us check out the temple, we wouldn't need to be digging all the time!"

"Hmmm... to leave nothing but footsteps..." Ligongo considered it. "Would you be able to convince your other explorer friends?"

"I hope so..." Willow sighed. "I don't wanna see anyone get shot today; it's a lucky thing no one was hurt, but the guys are pretty mad about the artefacts."

"Explorers leave little room for discussion, sadly." Ligongo sighed. "We tried to appeal, but our words fell on deaf ears. If we hadn't ensnared you, we would've already retreated deeper into the jungle, and bargained with the treasures in hand."

Willow frowned. It didn't seem like the aboriginals were taken pretty seriously. And Willow was familiar with plenty of stories about how explorers and archeologists would charge into dig sites without any regards for the locals. She wasn't sure if she agreed with the whole grand larceny angle, but...

"Well... alright, I guess I'll talk to the professor." Willow sighed, rubbing her neck. "Anything to avoid a gunshow..."

She reared up again, higher and higher, until she could reach the lip of the hole. As she leaned forward, she held tight, her tail writhing beneath her, pushing her up and out.

She dusted herself, and glanced around. It seems the locals were hurriedly packing everything into baskets and hurrying deeper into the foliage, with the toughest-looking among them hanging to the rear. Willow had a pang of curiosity hit her; she would've liked to get to know them better, but it seems everyone was in a hurry to get somewhere.

Exercising a little control over her hair snakes, she prodded at her knapsack to make sure Frisky was still hanging in there; an affirmative 'rowr' confirmed well enough. Willow slithered off in the opposite direction of the aboriginals. Thankfully, her sharp hunting instinct came in clutch, and she quickly made out the shuffling of leaves and cracking of branches off in the distance... signs of frantic movement. She hurried over to check it out.

...Aha! It was the guys from camp! She picked up the pace to go greet them!

"GUYS! I found them, they're-"

BANG BANG BANG!! Willow flinched, covering her face out of instinct as a flurry of gunfire peppered her. Her rimmed cap was shot clean off; Larry managed to snag it out of the air with fast reflexes.

"YEEEOW!!" A sharp screech blared from Willow's knapsack; the shrill cry deafened by the rain of gunfire. Willow momentarily panicked; her hairsnakes did everything in their power to rush in and soothe the cub, while keeping the flap shut. She didn't want Frisky jumping out and blowing his cover... but she'd have to put a stop to that awful racket!

"Agh, guys! It's me!" Willow lowered her arms, rearing up. Willow's scaled hide was practically bullet-proof, so she was more annoyed than anything.

"Good God woman, don't just leap out of the bushes like that!!" Professor Rousseau lowered his weapon, his moustache bristled and face pale. "What in the devil are you doing here!?"

"I found them, the Coci people! The ones that made off with our rarities?" Willow clutched her hands to her chest.

"Ah, so you came back to summon the menfolk." The professor nodded. "Right then, men, ready your arms and unto the breach-"

"No no, not like that!" She outstretched her arms as if to block their advance; her hair snake bros imitated her gesture. "Listen, they know where the temple entrance is!"

"...Temple entrance..." Professor Rousseau's moustache twitched as his eyebrow perked up. "You mean Emperor Epacatuan's-"

"Exactly! Well, one of the entrances at least." Willow nodded.

"Well well, this changes things!" The professor puffed his chest. "I thought you were all hot air when you were peacocking about those linguistic studies, but to think you held a conversation in their tongue! Remarkable..."

"Aha... eheh... yeaaah it was... preeeetty cooooool..." Willow chuckled bashfully, intentionally being vague about that "holding a conversation" business. The armed men glanced to each other, eyes wide with excitement, and relief that, perhaps, this blasted expedition would soon draw to a close!

"They'll even show us a way in, if we just let them have the knickknacks and doodads they went off with!" Willow nodded. "We won't have to excavate a whole new tunnel!"

"...Hrm..." Professor Rousseau rubbed his chin. "Bit of a sticky wicket, though. You sure these folk are as good as their word? You get all sorts out in the backwater."

"I-I think so." Willow tapped her chin. "Their leader's very kind. And he went to Picadelly..."

"Ehwot??" Rousseau blinked. "That... bears repeating."

Willow briefly recounted the strange, but gentle leader of the tribe, who seemed to be a worldly man as much as he was a caretaker of the jungle. Rousseau gawked with astonishment.

"My alma mater was Picadelly..." Rousseau scratched his chin. "Absolutely fascinating... I simply must get inside his head, do some reminiscing."

"W-well, you could've, if uh... if the expedition hadn't pushed the tribe away so much." Willow folded her arms. "Pulling a heist like this was the only way to get your attention..."

Willow tried to choose her words carefully. For all the good work she was doing, she was still his subordinate, and talking sass would surely reflect poorly on her internship evaluation. Rousseau didn't seem offput; he was too deep in thought... or perhaps he was already waxing nostalgic.

"Well then, where are they now?" Rousseau clapped his palms together. "High time we oil the gears of the diplomatic machine, eh?"

"Oh, uh, great! That's great, but..." Willow leaned to the gun. "Those guns are pretty spooky to be hauling around..."

"...Mm, I see your point. Wilson, James!" He called to a pair of his men. "See to it that the arms make it back to camp. And see about preparing more of that chicken stew as an offering."

"But uh... what if the locals attack us?" One of the men spoke up.

"Or a jaguar rips our insides out for all t' see..." Another shuddered.

"Well I daresay Miss Connelly-Hutchin's pret-near the scariest thing in this jungle, so if she escorts our crew, there won't be a beastie in sight eying us funny." Rousseau beamed, stepping forward to pat Willow on the shoulder... though she had only slumped slightly, and he could only seemed to reach for her waist.

"Well, uhhh... not sure if I'd put it like that, buuut..." Willow fidgeted. "Yeah, I can lead the way. LongasIdon'tfallintoanotherpitfall..."

"What was that?" Rousseau tilted his head. "You muttered something-"

"Nothing!~" Willow forced a smile. "We should go, while it's still bright out."

...With all of the oddly dehumanizing praise Rousseau heaped upon her, Willow didn't want to mention that she had already gotten a read on the scent of the aboriginals, and was ready to track them to their new grounds; the pleasant, acrid aroma of incense was subtle, but obvious compared to the damp foliage of the rainforest around them.

With the scary firearms on their way back to base camp, and Obama slipping inside her knapsack to boop the young cub, stroking its fur carefully, it was well enough to calm the creature soon. Willow cringed silently, hoping the contents of her pack weren't too torn up... she'd have to find a good opportunity to let Frisky out and play, and she'd have to find it soon.

Willow took point back into the wildly jungle overgrowth and began to clear a path once again...